


"Have You Seen Me?"

by demipunk



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Background Relationships, Cult AU, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, Mentions of medication, Minor Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Minor Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Missing Persons, Multi, Polyamory, a lot of untagged background characters, description may change, gun mention, honestly worte this to express some of my worst fears and habits, i don't want to flood their tags, mentions of mental illness issues, or rather a messy one, somewhat a delayed timeline?, supportive friendships, weapons mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demipunk/pseuds/demipunk
Summary: Most missing person's cases seemed so far removed from the put together lives they'd managed to settle into. They felt near fictional, with sporadic reporting of the most dramatic cases, or saddening bulletin boards of unfamiliar faces in grocery stores. They dotted the magazines and newspapers, not telephone poles in towns like theirs.But suddenly Percy Jackson seems to vanish overnight, and the onset of an unspoken worst fear feels very, very real.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Jason Grace/Percy Jackson/Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase/Piper McLean, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace/Percy Jackson, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 20
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm going to be Very real- I've wanted to write a missing person's au for awhile as a way to almost vent my own anxiety around the idea, and heavily encourage you to avoid this if it may be triggering topic for you. I hope it's clear I'm not romanticizing the tragedy of them. There are mentions of clear mental health issues, paranoia, anxiety, and characters going through struggles as a response to the stress of it. I just want to preface it with this because the last thing I want to have is someone who feels hurt or upset by it. Love yall, but I also love writing angst.

Jason was tired. Tired in his bones, behind his eyes, of putting up posters, forcing himself to flash the same image over and over again-

_‘Have You Seen Me?’_

Big, bold red letters over the clearest picture they could find. The white paper felt too flimsy to be carrying such a heavy plea. All the information they knew too, from the driver's license found in the wallet half shoved under the driver's seat-

_‘DOB: 8-18-1993_

_Age At Time Of Disappearance: 27’_

(Fuck the cops for waiting to declare him missing, fuck time for aging them into adults because apparently adults aren’t worth searching for in the first 24 hours. Sure, high school had sucked, but what Jason wouldn’t give for the urgency of an amber alert.)

_‘Height: 6’_

_Weight: 205 lb’_

(Would he have lost weight? It’d only been a week, but Jason didn’t know the logistics of what going missing did to the body.)

_‘Race: Mixed Latinx/Pacific islander_

_Sex: M’_

( _‘That’s outdated to have on a poster in 20-fuckin’-20,’_ Jason could practically hear him hum.)

_‘Hair: Black_

_Eyes: Green’_

(Jason wanted to scribble in _‘sea glass green,’_ but that was probably too specific.)

_‘Last seen wearing: Black jeans-’_

(If they were the ones Jason knew, they were ripped to shit at the knees.)

_‘-blue long sleeve flannel shirt-’_

(God, that one smelled like campfire smoke and saltwater the last time Jason stole it and teased him, asking when the last time the damn thing was washed.)

_‘-white tee-shirt, blue sneakers, denim jacket._

_Last location: Leaving apartment in Temple Ave. at approx. 11 PM in Navy Jeep, license plate_ ‘S19EA’ _Spotted on traffic camera going down Sounion Street Center.’_

(And he stole that jacket from Jason’s laundry hamper that night when he was leaving Jason’s apartment a week and a day ago.)

(A week and a day.)

(How does someone get declared missing a day after you see them?)

(That’s just too cruel of a time to disappear, isn’t it?)

(What was really, truly cruel was the way his name was written above that smirking, bright-eyed photo.)

(The name Jason was avoiding desperately, a cruel reminder of how bad things happen to good people.)

_‘Perseus Jackson.’_

(Percy _hated_ being called Perseus.)

“Jason,” A voice startled him from behind, and Jason flinched to see Piper walking towards him from across the street, “Got any extra staples? I’m all out.”

“Oh, yeah,” He took the tool from her, reaching into his pocket for the small cardboard box holding more, “Here you go.” The stapler felt weightless in his cold hands, numbly operating on autopilot as he refilled it for her. 

“Thanks,” The statement was accompanied by Piper's thinning smile, “These posters won’t be falling off anytime soon, huh?”

Jason knew that wasn’t supposed to sting but felt it anyway. But as with every emotion over the last few days, it was more of a dull thud against his chest than anything else. He cleared his throat, “I personally plan on takin’ them all down the minute we’ve got him back.”

“R-right.” Piper didn’t usually stutter, but Jason didn’t usually feel this detached either, and that's how he’d been all week. There was a first time for everything, unfortunately.

In fact, Annabeth's hands never usually shook, but they were too busy doing just that for her to do much more than watch from the bed of Wills pickup, hands wrapped around what was once a warm cup of coffee. She kept watch over them all like a forgotten statue, stock still, surrounded by rubber band bound stacks of yet more and more posters. They only had about half the county covered, so their work was obviously hardly done. The second day was spent just in the town, but they'd been widening their posting area by the day. Jason didn’t see this part of the mission lessening until Percy was home safe and sound. 

Leo was taking the bands off one when it snapped, pinching pain around his fingers. “ _Fuck!_ ” The curse was quiet but cut through the air as harsh as the autumn chill biting through their clothes. Another rarity, a break in the half-serious pride Leo had in having a fairly clean conscience regarding his language. Normally Nico or Hazel would’ve jokingly chastised him, but they were off finishing the other end of the street. Will was too busy to do much either, cooped up in the driver's seat to finish whatever phone call had interrupted him. 

“Of course,” His voice was muffled by the doors but drifted from the cracked back window, “Yes, of course, I know-” He repeated himself, “I understand that _sir-_ ” Will had his stubborn patient voice on, but it did nothing evidently to convince the caller, “Of course…” He eventually just sighed, “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Don’t start without us,” For good measure, you could barely hear him adding, “…please.” When the call ended Will opened his door just enough to lean out, raising his voice, “Hey guys, it looks like we gotta pack up early.” 

(The slow edging towards sunset was hardly what many of them would’ve called early before this week. Days didn’t feel like they ended ever since Percy went missing.)

“Channel 4 has decided to move up Ms. Jackson's spot. Some commercials agreed to give her their air time. We’ve got an hour to get cleaned up while they set up lights and sound, and I don’t suspect any of you want to be late or dirty for that, do you?” 

“You mean I don’t look ready for my close up?” Piper replied, walking back towards the car as she tucked her nearly finished stack under her arm, “You wound me.” The wind was blowing the wispy fly-aways of her bun away from her face, framing the dark circles under her eyes like an art piece. Leave it to a girl like Piper to make 3-day old hair and sweatpants look good, the drag of her feet betraying what was usually a confident stride. Everyone else came forward without comment, some walking faster than others. They were all in similar states of personal neglect, pajama pants and worn out hoodies in abundance. For the first few days of searching, they kept it together, but fear was overcoming pride, and just about any one of them would bite your head off if you said anything about their state. 

Frank was already in the passenger seat, making his own calls to whatever newspapers seemed willing to print even a small scan of the information that hadn’t already. He still had it in him to sound reasonable when it felt like it wasn’t worth waiting for an answer anymore. Hazel, Leo, and Nico were the only ones small enough to share the cramped leg room in the back. That left Annabeth, Piper, and Jason to brace themselves with the blankets they’d left stashed in the bed to hold back the wind rushing past them as the truck soldiered on towards the Jackson residence. Annabeth had shoved the posters back into her backpack begrudgingly, not saying a word on whether she was ready for this either. None of them were, they all knew it was an open secret, that was that. No one was ever ready to pull themselves together enough to stand in solidarity with the mother of one of their best friends as she pleaded with the public to call with any information regarding the disappearance of a young man that went by Percy. 

“He’s a good son,” Sally spoke towards the cameras that next hour, unflinching in the face of the microphones thrust towards her, “Always made- _Makes it_ to every family part, every holiday, every birthday. Never misses the chance to call home.” Her voice held that same composed rhythm as always- That was a superpower Jason would never understand. How she could explain all the qualities that made her son who he was without breaking down was a feat of strength. Her husband Paul- Percy's stepfather of over 10 years- held onto her hand, squeezing it periodically. Even her ex Poseidon- the owner of what must have made up most of the East Coasts commercial fishing boats and Percy's biological father- stood behind her, a respectable distance but undeniably steady in his presence. The rest of them stood only enough steps away to fit in the frame.

Despite the quick showers and sprays of dry shampoo, they must’ve still looked to be at varying stages of death. Every so often the crew would cast their worried glances to Nicos drooping eyelids or Annabeth's sternly set jaw, emotions too old for the faces they’d landed on. It didn’t matter; They needed to be there for Sally, and whatever opinion was held by everyone else on them alone didn’t matter. 

Sally was almost done rounding out her message, intense eyes keeping contact with the viewer, “If anyone has any information regarding my son’s whereabouts, please, don’t hesitate to call the missing person hotline-” A cameraman held up a quick hand, motioning her to pause so they could add the number along the bottom of the screen. When she started to speak again it was in a watery tone she must’ve been holding back all night, all week, “And Percy, if you can see this… Know that we’ve been looking for you. No matter how or why it happened, all I want is for you to come home safe, okay?” Her voice evened out again as she swallowed the lump in her throat, “… Thank you for your time.”

As the camera turned off and towards the reporter on the scene with them, Jason couldn’t imagine a world where Percy would choose to disappear. Hell, he was the one who’d convinced them all to come back and stay in the area after college, boasting the importance of their little found families. Close enough to the city without the craziness, a community just busy enough to feel right. They’d spent so many years growing up together, it only felt natural to fall back into their comfortable habits- thinking that made Jason feel like a townie, but that's beside the point.

Right now Paul was comforting Sally away from the cameras. Once she was free of their stares Sally had finally wavered, unsteady as Paul walked her back towards their front door. No one could blame her for being unable to go much further outside of their home than as needed for the broadcast. They’d had to ask some of Paul’s own family to watch Percy’s sister- Sally hadn’t wanted her to see them like this, or to be pressed upon by the news. She was scared and confused enough as it was. Their only guests had been neighbors and friends passing through during the day to drop off meals and mention prayers, a far cry from the usual neighborhood haunt it had been only last month when the sun was still bright, the air light with the sounds of the sprinkler running and laughter around a party in the front yard. Everything was so, so still now.

The other day Annabeth even quietly mentioned to Jason that Sally told her she didn’t want to stray too far from the home phone, so he had no doubt that wherever she was going to rest, it wouldn’t be too far out of reach. 

They’d been warned that some of them may be asked to say a few words, so the group readied themselves in preparation. They only had whatever time it took for the reporter to finish her filler bit and then however long Poseidon needed to make his statement (including that he was offering a reward to anyone who could provide relevant information into the investigation) to get ready. They’d had to ask him to hold off from making the search near nationwide, worried it would be too much for the family to handle. But every day that passed had made Jason question that decision.

Like the slow, numb need for observation felt by those passing car crashes, Jason watched the splitting of the group as they made room for comforting their anxieties about being on the air. 

Will and Nico were speaking close to each other, Wills hands squeezing Nico's shoulders on and off as he whispered affirmations that they could handle this. It couldn’t be said for certain who needed to hear it more. 

Glancing towards her, Jason saw Annabeth reading over some notes on her phone. It didn’t surprise him that she’d have written something in advance for this; While she would normally be able to improvise any sort of speech with unaffected, precise confidence, this was no unplanned building proposal. She needed at least the bare bones of a plan to proceed. They’d agreed ahead of time that Annabeth would be the one confirming her relationship with Percy if interviewed. Of any sort of minor hiccups to happen, they especially didn’t need the viewer's biased opinions of their sort of relationships to hinder their sympathy towards this plight.

Hazel and Frank were just holding tight to each other, having sat down on the curb. Jason didn’t know what they would say if questioned. They’d both looked up to Percy as well as being his friend, as they were a bit younger than the rest of the group, so Jason imagined this was like losing almost an older brother for them. 

The only two that seemed out of place were Piper and Leo. The two of them were in some quiet conversation, and at the sound of a hushed laugh, Jason immediately grew irritable. While he’d admittedly only gotten more relaxed with age, the emotions of this whole affair had him back to the no-nonsense his father had raised him with. Piper must’ve caught his unintentional glare, as she took a few hesitant steps towards him and Leo followed not too far behind, but he didn’t look as willing to explain himself. Piper had a look in her eyes like she was approaching a guard dog as she spoke to him, “How are you holding up?”

“Clearly not as well as you two.” Jason deadpanned.

Piper winced as Leo briefly opened his mouth, speaking before he could reply, “I wouldn’t say _‘well’_ is applicable here, Jay.” That withering smile returned, softening her defense, “We were just thinking… maybe at least us two could talk less about how scared we are for him, and just y’ know, let the public hear about all the good Percy holds in him. I don’t think it's fair to reduce him to our worry- And if he does see it, I’d say he wouldn’t want us all only crying over him.”

That spoke to the part Jason that knew Percy just as well. While his imagination had left him mostly projecting all the horror Percy may be experiencing lately, Piper's explanation made him see the reaction Percy really would have. He could practically hear him telling them to make him look good for the camera; Percy would despise being seen as a pity party.

Slowly, Jason conceded, “You’re right. That kid…” He forced himself to smile, just barely, “He’d be the one laughing at us if all we did was worry over him.”

Piper nodded, grabbing hold and shaking him by the shoulder. They all had to hold it together for him, whether or not he was in any position to see this broadcast. Slowly the reporter and her crew made their way through the group. Annabeth went first naturally, putting her phone away and gliding through whatever script she’d made. Even unexpected questions were answered with ease as she kept her chin up and gaze firmly on the reporter. The only thing betraying her was the twitch of her eye she always got when exhausted. But she’d seemed to cry out all her tears already by now, and only showed determination through her mental fog when pressed upon. 

When she was nearly done they signaled Piper, giving her a moment to prepare herself. People knew her face from the occasional paparazzi photos caught of her with her dad, so they hoped that would give even more reason for people to feel incentivized to keep an eye out. They asked her the standard set of questions, her name, how she knew Percy, said to tell them something about him. Just as she said she would, Piper spoke with a smile, “Honestly, it’s hard to give you one defining characteristic of him, but if you see a guy doing something borderline endearingly obnoxious, that’s probably our boy… And Percy, just like your mom said, if you can see this, know that all we care about is bringing you back to us. You should also know that we’ll all be attached to your hip from now on, punk.” It made the cameraman smile, but that might’ve just been because Piper said anything at all in his direction. She always had that effect on people.

When Piper was nearly done, Jason noticed some of the crew looking in his direction, glancing towards and away. He steeled himself, only nodding when they asked if he could go next. There was no pressure, they’d explained that beforehand to everyone, it was just to make the public more sympathetic to Percy, that’s all.

(Why it took a group of someone's childhood best friends begging for help to get a stranger to consider maybe caring was beyond Jason.)

The camera falling on him made him stand up straighter as they cut from Piper. Though he knew they weren’t asking him to hide his feelings, he instinctively shuddered himself as he prepared to speak- After all, Jason knew how to give a curt answer, to keep a stiff upper lip, and to only provide so much information if grilled; Call it growing up in a poor family dynamic. But even then, the steadiness of his voice unsettled him as he answered their first question, “My name's Jason Grace, and I’ve known Percy since our junior year…” He had to be goaded on to add to his statement by the reporter's slight grimace, “… 10 years. I’ve been Percy’s friend for the past 10 years of my life.” God, that felt like both a revelation but also an understatement. He wanted to add how long he’d been more than a friend, he wanted to call him his boyfriend, he wanted to be clear that he loved him. The word _‘friend’_ wasn’t enough, but he couldn’t say more.

No, Jason could only bring himself to elaborate where he was guided, where it was safe to answer about where they met, “I met Percy in a class we shared first, but…” He attempted to sound as relatable as anyone can when avoiding the actual complexities of a relationship, “We didn’t talk, not until we figured out how many mutual friends we had. After that-” Jason wanted to punch the lump that rose in his throat, “Well, we were practically inseparable.”

Gently pulling the microphone away from him, the reporter spoke into it to ask, “Then how does this feel for you?”

“… Excuse me?” Jason blinked at her.

“How does it feel to be separated from your friend?” The reporter clarified.

Now, Jason prided himself on being rational. The intelligent, level headed portion of his brain understood this was a normal question. He offered a bit of dialogue, the reporter was going to build off of that, that is how conversation worked. But this conversation was being broadcast into every home with this channel on, and this conversation suddenly felt far too exposed. How does it feel? How the _fuck_ does it feel? 

“How do you _think_ it feels?” Jason said without thinking, not with anger but deadpan severity, “Percy, he- He and I-” The question felt like a hand on his throat, pulling him under swamp water, lung full after lung full of horrible scenarios and inadequate articulations. But the light that brought him back to the surface, harsh like the glare of the sun off a wave, was the reporter's startled expression. All at once, Jason realized this was just her job. She didn’t ask that to hurt or sensationalize the situation. In all likelihood, this was a line she’d been told to eventually ask before the broadcast, not a jab at Jason’s open, Percy-sized wound. At the very least, she was just another stranger needing convincing to rationalize that Percy was worth looking for.

So, in a last-minute attempt to scavenge that gasped sentence fragment Jason added in a crinkled tone, “I… I meant to say… That not having him here feels… It just feels wrong.” His voice broke on _‘wrong_ ,’ and all at once Jason felt hot tears pool in the corners of his eyes, “I- I’m sorry, I can’t-” Of course he had to be the one who broke, the one who stepped away from cameras. The crew fumbled for a moment of panicked improvisation, frantically turning back to the reporter and her effort to compose her expression. Jason faintly heard her try to wrap up the segment as he made quick work of shutting himself into the security of Will’s truck. 

He dissolved into the backseat and curled in on himself with choked gasps. He hadn’t cried since they first declared Percy missing since the first search party came up empty. Jason was raised not to cry, to hold it in beyond the occasional funerals, and he didn’t want to think Percy was dead. 

Even if every statistic said so. 

Even if every dream he’d had since he disappeared had featured shards of Percy fading away from him. They’d woken him like clockwork; He’d spot him and just as Percy opened his mouth to respond to Jason’s immediate frantic questioning, Jason would wake up. Right now Jason’s own mouth felt torn open with each sob. 

The door to the back was nearly thrown open, shaking the vehicle bodily. “Jason?” Piper sounded scared, her voice lowered as soon as she took him in, “Oh, Jason- Jason, c’ mere.”

He couldn’t move. Every part of him felt cemented in place, hands held against his head, shielding against an impact that never came. Like he was bracing himself for the end of this horribly long fall- Years ago some doctor had mentioned _‘cranial trauma’_ as a root cause of suspected PTSD. If this was some fantasy, an intrusive, maladaptive daydream, all he wanted was to wake him. It was possible, Jason had slipped into frightening, disassociated states a few times since his accident when he missed more than a few nights of sleep to stress and anxiety. With those, however, Jason had learned how to ground himself- Count his fingers, find five things in the room he knows are real, text someone to tell them he needed a call- If this was one of those, there was no way his brain was choosing to go this far under. 

Piper’s arms around him hardly registered. She’d never been afraid to touch him, the earliest of his partners and a near-constant presence in his life since they’d first kissed. Sure, he’d drifted closer to Percy and her to Annabeth, but they all loved each other at one point or another. Love wasn’t enough right now, even as she whispered, “C’mon, talk to me, talk to me, talk to me.” the well-meant mantra was just as impactful as if she’d tried to shout across a canyon. 

Every social convention told Jason this was supposed to feel embarrassing. He could practically hear his stepmother Hera questioning what the neighbors would think if they saw him like this. She’d asked him that more than once if his life, that’s why they hadn’t spoken in years. If Piper had seen him break off that meant everyone had. But she was the one that decided to make chase. Some passive-aggressive social media posts nagged at his mind, an echo of _‘Never touch someone in the middle of the breakdown, it’s rude and invasive and- and- and-’_ but it didn’t matter what some stranger with a superiority complex would’ve thought of her actions. It didn’t matter. It didn’t bother him because he didn’t have room in his head to question if it should. Even if she had asked, he couldn’t answer. 

The next opening of the car door hardly registered either, as it was softer than the last. Jason only noticed it because it drew Piper’s hold slightly away. He could hear the sound of Will talking and knew he was speaking towards Piper, which made it easy to not pay attention to whatever he was asking. Something said in a soft sigh at first, but pausing as Piper spoke a simple command, “Don’t.” Jason only heard the question of _‘water?’_ in response and knew Piper nodded back. The door shut, and Jason felt every footfall of the gravel outside in his throat. 

Her hold tightened again after that, and Jason could hear her swallow hard, “Every movie moment would say I should tell you to be strong right now. But that- That’s bullshit. It's why I hate movies. The word _‘strong’_ is bullshit. Every goddamn thing about this is utter bullshit. It's not fair and telling you to pretend you shouldn’t acknowledge that it isn’t either. But we have to hold out anyway. It doesn’t mean we have to be strong while doing it, but it’s all we’ve got.”

That broke something in Jason even further, and he finally croaked, “Why keep doing this when we know this is bullshit?”

“It is,” Piper reiterated slowly, “It is. But we do it because it is all we’ve been handed.”

“Why are we pretending at all that we can stomach bullshit?” Every word felt like hard labor, like Jason was a hopeless masochist, “We know it, we can smell it from a mile away, why pretend? I sound- I sound like an idiot, it’s obvious, it’s been obvious, and now I’ve just proven I’m an idiot on television.” One his hands moved to rub furiously at his eyes, “I'm an idiot because every part of me is all sorts of fucked up about this, and I’m not the one fucking missing. Everything is bullshit.”

“No! No, you’re not an idiot. If you are, we all are, it's every one of us. And we’re not, we’re… We’re scared, and we’re just shoveling this bullshit because it's our only option. We’re scared, but we’re not given any good way to handle it. That's why it’s not fair, not because we’re too stupid to understand it, but because we are aware of the hand we’re given and are forced to deal. That doesn’t make us idiots, it makes us… It makes us victims of this whole situation. Victims aren’t stupid.” Piper sounded just as torn. She startled slightly when the door opened again, drawing away to grab whatever was being held out to her. 

“I don’t want to be a victim,” The word felt like a punishment, “That’s not right, I didn’t choose that. We didn’t choose that.”

“No one does- Here, please,” Piper pressed a bottle of water against his arm, cold even through his sleeve, “Please, for me.”

Jason finally took a deep and shaky breath as he took the bottle from her. He knew she’d chastise him if he drank too fast so he paced himself with small sips. Self-care had admittedly- and probably obviously- gone out the window, and the survival-driven part of his brain had been nagging at Jason to not ignore it and was probably doing some smug little dance that he was at least somewhat remedying his growing dehydration. Pulling away and taking another deep breath, Jason finally lifted his head and despite his nagging, unnecessary shame about the action, he finally looked at Piper. Of course, she looked worried, Jason expected that. But she also had the same teary eyes he’d already given into, and her’s looking far more reined in. She shouldn’t have to hold it together for him, to look worried, and he shouldn’t have the arrogance to know to expect it.

Or maybe it wasn’t arrogance but rather, the rational viewpoint of the situation that expected that. Logic explained that Piper was a good person. Good people care about their friends and/or partners. Jason was her friend and her partner. Ergo, she cared about Jason, and a function of caring was worrying. It was formulaic, a hypothesis made and met. What the scared, screaming part of Jason briefly told him to expect was anger, as he’d grown to expect from years of being the definition of misunderstood. Fear did not follow a formula. Nor did the frustration that he wasn’t better yet, confusion as to why he couldn’t shape up, _‘I thought I raised you better than this-’_ It was admittedly a relief not to see that, even if his fear wasn’t grounded in reason. Looking in her concerned eyes he posed a soft question, “Can I admit something?”

“Of course, you know you can tell me anything.” Piper nodded with an encouraging smile just barely tugging at the corner of her lips.

Jason chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before speaking, “Part of why I feel so stupid is that I know I walked into this wanting as much help as we could get- I was the one that had to be tracked down in the woods because I didn’t think the search went wide enough. I’m the one that keeps throwing a fit when I’m alone every night he’s not home. Hell, I’m the one that tried to shame you and Leo for not wanting to be the real, honest people you are. I thought I could stand in front of that camera like some robot-” _‘Be the robot I was raised to be,’_ his brain insisted- “But I’m the one that snapped because as much as I keep calling in every troop we have, all I want is to hide from this.” He sniffled, looking away, “Make a blanket fort and wait it out until Percy miraculously reappears and tells us he just got stuck in traffic.”

Surprisingly, Piper laughed, making Jason turn back to her with his confused look. “Buddy,” She replied with a tired chuckle, “If you think you’re the only one that wants that, you really might be an idiot. Hell, what I wouldn’t give to be able to peacefully distract myself for just a minute and not feel intense guilt that I’m not spending my every waking moment praying that he’ll be found.”

“You’re not even religious.” Jason finally found himself a hint of a smile to dig up from under his week-long sorrows.

“Exactly! That’s the worst part!” Piper gave him a shake, “So many of you guys infected me with your insane amounts of Catholic guilt, swear to… See, I was about to do it again!”

It took a beat for Jason to finally, wonderfully break, giving a laugh that half felt amazing and half felt like he needed to be committed to a psych ward. The kind of laugh after crying that almost hurt. After everything he’d just wrecked himself over internally, doing it seemed close to a crime, but one of civil disobedience. His brain had made the laws stating he could not take a break from his fear and his anger but that did not make them right. Just because someone or something tells you you shouldn’t doesn’t mean you can’t- A sentiment Percy had cited any time he chose to ignore authority. 

(He also compared rules to piñatas and party poppers, but that was less inspirational and more so grounded in his rebellious streak.)

Piper sighed as Jason’s laugh cleared some of the near-electric tension is the cabin of the car. She poked at the half-empty water bottle, “I’d be really happy if you’d finish that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason’s relaxation became fleeting again, and he told a long sip before sheepishly asking, “Did uh… Did everyone notice me scramble out of there?”

“Does everyone we know have functioning eyes?” Piper replied in a somewhat-serious deadpan.

“Great,” Jason turned his eyes to the floor, “That sure looks good on me.”

Piper exhaled a laugh, “You mean _‘notice’_ as in for _‘noticed and thought I was weak,’_ don’t you? We’re your friends, we _‘noticed’_ because we care. I’m just the fastest out of everyone who _‘noticed,’_ with Will pulling up the rear. Everyone else just doesn’t want to crowd you”

“I just don’t want them to think I’m…” Jason trailed off, searching for the words, “I don’t know, dramatic?”

He could see Piper turning the word over in his head a few times before replying to him, “I don’t think there are many ways to be dramatic about this- It’s not like you stayed and made the broadcast about you just dominating it with some full meltdown. You knew you needed some privacy, you took it. If some prick defines that as dramatic, they need therapy.”

“Maybe I need therapy,” Jason just sighed, looking away, “I haven’t gone in… awhile.” He didn't want to admit how long.

“Have you been taking your meds?” Piper’s question was blunt, meaning she wanted honesty.

Naturally, Jason lied, “Yeah, of course, every night.”

Piper made a humming noise, “Okay, so then you’ll be fine with face timing me tonight so I can watch you take them?”

Jason took a beat before answering, “Of course.”

“Of course,” Piper nodded, bumping her shoulder against his, “Let’s do that for the next few nights, yeah?”

Maybe it was a good idea to have someone holding Jason accountable for these kinds of needs. Falling off the wagon was the last thing he needed right now. He was shy in asking his next question, “Do you… do you think you could come to spend the night at my place tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan, buddy,” Piper smiled at him genuinely, then took a deep breath before adding, “Do you think you can handle stepping out now?” She turned to look out the window of the truck, “Looks like the news wrapped up, their vans starting up to drive away. It’ll just be you, me, and all the other people who care about you who’ll see you.” She waited for Jason’s hesitant nod to move to open the door, offering a hand to him.

As they exited the vehicle, their friends blessedly looked at him not with pity, but with a surprising amount of understanding. Those that looked like they weren’t quite totally in their own little worlds looked at him with faces that said, _‘You’ve done what we’ve all been feeling.’_ Yet, Jason knew he wouldn’t be able to shake the shame. Will looked around at the group, “So… do we all want to head home, or…?”

“Sounds like a hell of a plan,” Leo spoke up, kicking a rock that lay on the ground, “I’m starving.” He laughed, but it wasn’t his usual boisterous one. It seemed he got quieter every day.

Free from the script she wrote herself Annabeth spoke slower than earlier, “A warm meal sounds nice right now,” She looked towards the Jackson residence, pausing before glancing towards the group with a candid addition, “I love you guys, you know that, right?”

Something about that made the air lighten. Truthfully, none of them had said that to each other as often as they had before this. 

Ironically Percy had always been the one that had a hard time with it and in some way, the frequency they’d picked it up was a little way of encouraging him to initiate that kind of vulnerability. One day Hazel had just offhandedly told him one simple statement that stuck with all of them; _‘You should know by now that love is not a finite resource.’_ And as time went by, months on months and at times both good and bad, they’d all said it in some form at least once or twice or a hundred times to him when he looked like he wanted to say it but couldn’t, a group agreement. Love is not a finite resource, they all thought. The world felt like it was ending, but love didn’t need to. Hazel was the first one to say _‘I love you too’_ to Annabeth, before the rest of them eventually agreed, some firmly and some just saying it to get it out. Love is not a finite resource, it was a necessity. It was a right.

Annabeth nodded and walked inside. After she closed the door the rest of them piled into the truck again. And after each of them eventually got out as Will dropped them off, they all did it. They all said _‘love you.’_ as they left the car, quiet and loud, sadly and hopefully. 

Love was not a finite resource, and they needed it to survive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! I'll say, the mortal fear brought on by quarantine sure makes it easier to write unsettling stuff. Hope y'all get spooked <3

A long time ago, Percy had decided salt water was a cruel joke made by God. Make 71% of the planet covered in water, but make 96% of that undrinkable. He’d done a research project (one of his less reluctant ones) on it back in high school, about the stories of stranded sailors making themselves worse by trying to survive. The future was progress, however, and his paper’s final paragraph was about the modern innovations to convert seawater into a safe source, compacted into kits anyone could buy. It made him feel less guilty about loving the ocean, less unsettled when he hung over the side of his fathers' boats and had intrusive thoughts of _ ‘what if we get stranded?’ _ At the end of the day, as the currents helped pull them back into the marina, Percy could remind himself that this was safe, he was safe. 

As Percy woke up with his throat feeling like he’d been gasping down saltwater for days and his world pulsing with a pounding headache that reminded him of symptoms of the bends, his first thought was far from safety. Or rather, he felt far from the  _ reassurance  _ of safety, because safety did not smell like mildew and feel like a thin, rough mattress under his back. As much as he wanted to, Percy was having difficulty opening his eyes and had to pour more effort than he was aware he could attempt to get himself to sit up. 

It took him a moment to even realize his eyes were open once he could, trying to adjust to the darkness of wherever he was. The more he awoke, the more confused he felt. Maybe this was a prank, or someone’s really fucked up guest room- Maybe that was too much of a far fetched guess, but to be fair, Percy was familiar with waking up in unfamiliar places. Sue him for being a less than responsible teenager once upon a time, falling asleep at house parties and taking up brief residence on his friend’s couches after concerts and rehearsals. But the less his world spun, the more he realized this was not like anywhere he’d woken up before. Hesitatingly, he called out, “Hello?”

He strangely expected an echo, but it was like the walls ate his voice, swallowing his rough sluggishness. As soon as he spoke Percy’s headache intensified, making him wince, “Jesus fuck.” His face scrunched up the more he tried to understand the situation. This was worse than a hangover should be, as any attempts at connecting trains of thought were made to travel through wet cement. He considered the possibility that his motor neurons had been replaced with fallen power lines, judging by the flashes of hazy lights behind his eyes every time he blinked. A long time ago Jason had shown him where to press on his neck to relieve migraines as Annabeth explained the reasoning behind it, but when he reached for his head, his right wrist jerked harshly, held back. 

The fear that had already begun creeping up his back skyrocketed as Percy looked down, trying to figure out what was around it. Sure enough, his finger met the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs, and as Percy traced them with his left hand he felt the one cuff curling his wrist leading it’s chain down to connect to the frame of the bed he was on. Even though rationally Percy knew it would do nothing, he still had the human instinct to tug at it again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again, over and over, the metal clambering around uselessly as Percy succeeded only in hurting himself. Bringing it up as much as he could and squinting, Percy could see lines on his arm where it evidently had been rubbing at for longer than he possibly thought, the skin an angry, aching red. 

Turning back towards the rest of the room, Percy tried again to get a better understanding of where he was. The more he woke up the more his eyes could handle the darkness and he could at the very least see beyond what was right in front of his face. Again though, he was reminded of a fact his dad had entertained him with once- How cave divers, when faced with pitch-black waters, often “saw” things in the water, because that’s what they expected to see. In reality, their mind was supplying the hallucination to stop itself from feeling helpless in the dark. They wave their hand in front of their face, the brain knows where it should be, and even without any residual sunlight streaming through the waters, they could still “see” it. That was supposedly reassuring, but just made Percy ask his dad if any of the divers had smoked something before going down.

Yet Percy realized it wasn’t entirely dark in the room the clearer his head got, so he couldn’t have projected anything after all. There was the barest light in the room, coming in from a few rows of barely-running fluorescent bulbs humming away. It was like the leftover glow of the old TV they had in their first apartment, greenish and faintly flickering away from the low ceiling. If he could stand, Percy would maybe have a foot above him of free space, tops. The dim light hitting the walls did them no favors, exposing rough concrete glinting with what looked like some sort of leak leading to puddles on the dirt floor. That must’ve been where the smell was coming from, and probably why the room was so cold. Whatever excuse for a bed he was stuck on seemed to be the only furniture here, metal the same color as two large panels set into the walls.

Safe to say, this was no  _ Better Homes and Gardens _ candidate.

Percy tried to take deep breaths. But whether he meant to or not, all he could think was a string of meaningless expletives, ‘ _ whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. _ ’ He knew it was a long shot but scanned the corners of the room the best he could, looking for some hint, something that would give him some sort of context- Then, there it was, there, a small, blinking red blip in the farthest upper corner of the room.

A  _ camera _ . 

That made something heavy fall in his stomach. Now, either this was possibly the most messed up way to ever reboot the show Punk’d, or… Percy didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he steeled himself and addressed it, “Hey, I- I don’t know who’s watching, but this isn’t funny.” 

_ ‘Oh _ , ‘This isn’t funny,’  _ really? _ ’ He thought to himself,  _ ‘That’s the first thing you think to say?’ _

For some reason, he found himself waiting for a response, but try as he might, Percy couldn’t see any sort of speaker in the room, so that hope died as quickly as it rose. All his body knew for certain was the sound of his pulse hammering in his ears like hundreds of feet performing a death march. The sensation almost brought tears to his ears, but he tried to hold them back. Percy’s head spun with panicked ideas, some more useful than others. He had a talent for squirming his way out of difficult situations, maybe he could-

A sudden, blinding light paired with the screeching of sliding metal interrupted his thoughts, confusion jumping its way up the length of his spine as he reflexively scrambled to flatten his back against the wall behind him as he shielded his eyes. His right hand was trapped against the unforgiving metal painfully clamped around it, and if Percy wasn’t careful enough he feared dislocating his wrist. Of course, this would happen just as he’d started to acclimate, that just  _ had _ to be his sort of luck. 

A silhouette swang into the frame of the light and just barely succeeded in helping to lessen its power. The blessing of the blocked brightness prompted Percy to squint towards its source, but whoever was there was hard to decipher with the harsh backlighting. Percy opened his mouth to speak but was cut off immediately by an unnervingly alert voice, “You really are awake! Thank God, that’s a relief- We almost thought that accident got you good!”

Finally, Percy gathered himself enough to stammer, “Where- Where am I? What accident? Who are-?”

“Oh, and you’re already chatty! That’s a good sign, most are too stunned to make conversation,” The stranger chuckled, “All in due time, kiddo.”

Percy thought by this point of his life he would’ve aged out of being called  _ ‘kiddo _ ,’ and would hardly consider his frightened demands to be small talk, so both threw him off immediately, “Excuse me?”

“That certainly is quite a suggestion to make this early, I’ll consider it,” The hummed reply sounded way too casual as the figure stepped into the room, sliding the door closed behind them. They made an unsatisfied sound and tutted, “It’s so inconsiderate when people leave the lights so low, don’t you think?” Without waiting for a response they flung a switch up, making Percy let out a sharp gasp as it rattled him once again. Is this how fish felt being reeled out of the water, this horrible shock out of their reality, never really knowing what else there was to feel up to this moment of their life? 

They kept talking as Percy watched their back as they seemed to meander towards the corner with the camera, “Good thing I was watching when you spoke up, we wouldn’t want to have you start feeling all by your lonesome in here for too long.”

Percy managed to gather himself to repeat his question more firmly, “Where is  _ ‘here _ ?’” He swallowed hard, “Who is  _ ‘we? _ ’” The bluntness and volume of the questions surprised himself. He wasn’t aware he could act so steady when he was the farthest thing from feeling secure.

The figure stopped abruptly, the sudden, unnatural jerk of the motion sending a shiver through Percy’s chest. They sounded angrier now as they replied, “Are you one of those people who has trouble with patience?” Another sudden jerk as they whipped their head to give him a side-eyed glare, “We can solve that for you, I’m sure.”

Something about their profile called for a rolling dread to flow through him. The slope of their nose, a curled lip making a sneer appear on their face. That voice reminded him of how his mom sounded when she got short with him, frustrated but somehow still understanding of his thought process, contrasting their far more sour expression. It was the tone of mentor on the verge of disappointment, expression betraying the patience they were taught to have, the familiarity troubling him. This was someone just standing to the left of a memory. 

Then their posture shifted as they performed a far smoother turn to face him and it all clicked as loudly as a shotgun being cocked back. Despite his instantly dry mouth, he uttered yet another question, a single word with an army of undeniable confusion behind it, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Luke?” 

( _ Percy had gone cliff diving once, on a spring break that he’d saved up for with his friends. It was warm, so warm, the sun baking the roof of the car they rented for the occasion, heat lines dancing off the asphalt of the parking lot. This is a designated area, sung the signs loomed over them, this is where you are allowed to be.  _

_ This is where this recklessly human need for adrenaline is allowed to exist because we hope this is where you are  _ least  _ likely to die from the purposeful act of throwing yourself into the ocean.  _

_ There are no lifeguards, here is a chart to know this is when high and low tide hit, please be careful, but if you aren’t you can’t say we didn’t try.  _

_ It had taken them nearly an hour to reach the highest point, time allotted of course to laugh and scream and shimmy out of their clothes, exposing swimsuits and tan lines. They were young and loud and bursting at the seems to do something stupid. Leo didn’t even need to be dared to go first, all of his cool kid facades shucked away with flailing limbs as he realized there are very few cool ways to fall off a cliff. Then, of course, Piper proved that wrong, sending herself over gracefully with a wink to Annabeth and a whooping cheer from Leo below. Percy had stood near the edge with Annabeth, watching their friends heads bobbing in the water as they cast waves at one another.  _

_ He’d looked at her, silent for a moment before slinging an arm around her waist,  _ ‘Hey,’  _ he’d asked,  _ ‘You know how much I love you?’  _ Love was a scary word of course, but this was a special occasion. _

_ She’d made a face but still laughed,  _ ‘How much?’

_ Then, in that memory, he’d held her tighter and smirked as he whispered,  _ ‘This much,’ _ tipping them both off the edge.  _

_ That moment felt so weightless but so, so certain. Even as their bodies hit the cold water, he knew what would happen next, he knew they’d come up in a minute with wet hair and Annabeth would pretend to be angry as she smiled through the curls in front of her face. The most they had to worry about then was saltwater in their eyes as everyone jumped down after them, and the rough sand and stone under their feet as they scrambled back up to do it all over again. It was exhilarating to pull this kind of stunt, to make the choice or have someone make the choice for you even, as Percy learned as Jason gave him a taste of his own medicine and tumbled them both off the edge with a kiss- More boisterous than his plunge with Annabeth, better set for the relationship they had as well. Dangerous, sure, but harmless. _

‘This,’  _ He’d thought later that day,  _ ‘I need to remember this.’  _ It was an act that screamed  _ ‘life is worth living’ _ in a moment of wonderful, beautiful stillness as they sunned themselves dry at dusk. _ )

The stillwater silence that smothered him felt so wrong, so drawn out. He needed to wake up, he needed to find another memory to slip into, he needed the memory in front of him to take off the face it unfairly wore. There was no way in hell this was him, but the longer they held eye contact the harder Percy had to struggle to breathe. 

“Luke?” He repeated himself louder, “Luke, what's going on?” Percy rarely struggled to speak except on rare, sensitive subjects, but he was choking on his tongue and couldn’t stop himself from struggling against his cuff as he tried to lunge towards him, “I swear to god, if you don’t- What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing-”

He cut Percy off with an almost comically disgusted face, “Are you planning to be this much of a problem the whole time?” His hand moved casually towards his hip, “I’d hate to think you’re beyond saving.”

The seamless flick of his wrist over the hem of his shirt and Percy could see the handle of a gun tucked into his waistband. 

Instantly, Percy stopped moving, stopped speaking, could only stare at the weapon before slowly taking his eyes back up to Luke’s face. This had to be a joke, hadn’t it? Luke hadn’t been seen in- He was a runaway, everyone talked about it for a few months, cops got called, but he was an older kid from a bad home, no one blamed him, but this- Why would-

Why did that scar have to be so recognizable? So unmistakable? 

“Oh, so we’ve calmed down,” Luke laughed, his posture relaxing as Percy remained frozen, “That’s what I like to see.” He started walking towards Percy before stopping just outside of swinging range, leaning only his upper body to him, digging in the pocket opposite of the gun for something, “Now, I’m going to leave this,” He pulled out a small, thin key on a lonely keyring- Just the right size for the cuff, “On the floor, right here,” He put it down within Percy’s reach instead of directly on the bed, “You can take it once I’ve left- But move for it even a second before, and there won’t be anything to save. You understand?”

Eye contact was unsettling on the best of days for Percy, but right now it felt like torture, to have such a familiar face staring him down with this mock-sincerity, an instructor explaining to their students the importance of lab safety with the most extreme examples possible. But he never broke, only nodding and sinking further into the bed, shrinking himself as far back as he could without any sudden movements. 

“Wonderful,” he laughed again and punctuated it with the drop of the key, “I knew you’d shape up quick.” He started walking backward, hand grazing the handle of a threat too real to risk. With the opposite, he knocked on a second door in the room, yet another sliding piece of metal, “Bathrooms right here when you’re ready- why don’t you clean yourself up now that you’re awake, and we’ll save the rest for when we meet each other again later?” He didn’t wait for a response and instead headed back towards the entrance, never flinching against the squealing internal mechanisms as he opened it once again. Luke didn’t even look back, stepping out briskly and disappearing without another word. All he left Percy with was the sound of the lock sliding into place, and the measly handcuff key on the ground of what Percy realized was a cell. 

Shakily reaching for this meaningless prop of freedom, Percy considered that beyond the cryptic language Luke had used, what was most frightening about him was the look of total ignorance on his face when he took Percy in. How had he managed such cold, inhumane eye contact?

That whole nightmare, Luke had never responded to his name.

  
Who  _ was  _ Luke?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I took a mini-break while writing Luke because *I* got spooked. I write a big game but dw y'all, I'm entirely a baby and have no idea whats possessed me to write about one of my own worse fears. Hope all of you are safe n healthy handling life as best as one can <333


End file.
